Metropol Parasol Setas wooden structure
— the lattice the city built where the market burned.
Not only on a wall.
Metropol Parasol Setas wooden structure, on ceramic.
Each tile is finished by hand in our Knoxville studio. Artwork is slowly infused into the ceramic surface under high heat and pressure, and rests beneath a thin glossy finish. The colour lives in the surface, not on top of it.
Pick any four 4-inch tiles — National Parks you've been to, a Smokies set, the four seasons of one place. $ for a set of , cork-backed, ready to live on the table.
Each tile ships in a kraft box, tied with cream ribbon, with a handwritten note from the studio if you'd like to add one.
Three or five different vistas, hung together — a chapter of places you've been, or want to go.
“Six timber parasols rise above the Plaza de la Encarnación, six storeys of pale Finnish birch curving like mushroom caps over the old market square. Locals call it Las Setas. A walkway runs along the upper canopy at sunset, when Seville turns terracotta and the bells from the Giralda carry across the rooftops. Below, Roman cellars wait in cool dark.
The place, in three passes.
Las Setas de Sevilla rises above the Plaza de la Encarnación in central Seville, designed by Berlin architect Jürgen Mayer and completed in 2011. Six interlocking timber parasols of laminated Finnish birch span roughly 150 by 70 metres, reaching about 26 metres at the highest crown. The structure shelters a market, a public square, and the Antiquarium, where Roman and Moorish remains uncovered during construction sit beneath glass. The Cathedral and Giralda stand fifteen minutes' walk south, across the old Sevillian grid.
A lift inside one of the columns reaches the rooftop walkway, where a curving path winds across the canopy for about 250 metres. The terrace opens daily, latest in summer until around midnight. Sunset is the quiet hour, when the lattice ribs throw long shadows across the Plaza and the Giralda lights warm. A ticket includes a small drink at the café below the canopy. Stairs continue from the terrace to a higher viewing platform; the climb is gentle and short.
On still evenings the canopy holds the heat of the day in its joints and lets it back slowly after dark. Swifts cross the open lattice in late spring, sometimes through the ribs themselves. From the upper walkway the city reads in three layers, terracotta rooftops, the pale stone of the Cathedral, and the green margin of the Guadalquivir beyond. A breeze comes up from the river around ten in the evening and works through the structure for an hour.
